


Balance

by YumeArashi



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dominance, Drinking, Exploring Sexuality, F/M, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Night Stands, Questioning Sexuality, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-15
Updated: 2013-01-15
Packaged: 2017-11-25 14:44:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/639950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YumeArashi/pseuds/YumeArashi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Paul is a good-natured lady-killer who doesn't let himself get close to people.  Jun Yi is a quiet and serious guy who moves in next door.  By all rights they shouldn't get along, but some friendships defy logic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Balance

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Balance](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/15688) by Yume Arashi. 



When the moving van pulled up in front of the apartment complex, it wasn’t anything unusual.  I mean, it’s an apartment complex, if not a particularly big one, and there are always people coming and going.  I peeked out my window, nosy as usual, to see if my new neighbors-to-be would turn out to be interesting. 

The van was one of those self-moving rent-a-vans.  Maybe it’s just me, but it always seems kinda unfair to charge people for those things when they’re already busting their asses by doing the moving themselves.  Anyhow, the van came to a stop and a guy about my age hopped out of the driver’s seat.  Short, dark hair, muscular build, and definitely dressed for hard labor in a tanktop and...ugh, spandex shorts.  I find that nine-tenths of the people who wear spandex really, really shouldn’t.  Oh well, he was moving, it was August, you couldn’t blame him.  At least he wasn’t fat and ugly like most of the people who run around wearing way too little clothing.  Too bad he wasn’t a pretty chick.  That would have been much more interesting.

He hauled the first load inside and I might have lost interest, except that a few minutes later I heard a heavy, dragging noise along the hallway.  Aha, they must have finally let the apartment next door to me.  I hoped he didn’t mind loud music.

I assumed, given the amount of the stuff in the truck, that he’d have a carload of friends arriving to help him, but after he made the first few trips, I realized that he was doing this alone.  Okay, now that was just not fair.  I mean, he looked really strong for his size, but how could any one person hope to move some of the furniture that he had in there?

Well, I was bored, it was a long weekend with nothing to do.  I went into my room to change into shorts (not spandex) and a tanktop, and went out into the hallway.  There was Mr. Muscles, doing his damnedest to carry an armchair that looked like it weighed more than he did.

“Hey, you need a hand there?”

He set the chair down and turned to look at me.  I could see he had blue eyes, strange to see, given his oriental features.  His dark hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, and his tanktop was soaked.  And the van wasn’t even half empty yet.  He nodded briefly.

“Thanks.”

I picked up one side of the chair.  Wow, this thing was heavy!  “My name’s Paul, by the way.  Paul Anderson.”

He lifted the other side of the chair easily.  Mr. Muscles indeed.  “Jun Yi Tian.  Call me Jun.”

It took us the rest of the day to get all the stuff up to the apartment and arranged in some semblance of order.  At least, as much order as you can have when there are boxes everywhere you look.  I stretched slowly.  My muscles were screaming bloody murder at me, but at least I didn’t seem to have put anything seriously out of joint.

“I’m gonna grab a shower.  If you wanna use mine so you don’t have to dig out your shower stuff, that’s cool.  I can order us a pizza while you’re doing that, there's a great place downtown that delivers, way better than most of the crappy chains.”  

He nodded again.  “That’d be fine, thanks.”  He smiled slightly, “Especially the shower part.”  I laughed.

“I’m next door, 307.  I’ll leave the door open, so just c’mon over when you’re ready.  There’s some beer in the fridge, help yourself.”

Contrary to popular belief, I am capable of showering and washing my hair in under half an hour.  I just don’t usually feel the need to.  But considering that Jun was at least as grubby as I was, it would have been rude to make him wait too long.  I bounced out of the bathroom, dressed in fresh clothes and feeling infinitely better.  Hot water does wonderful things for sore muscles.

“Shower’s all yours.  Take as long as you feel like.  One of the great things about these places is that communal water heaters equal an essentially unlimited supply of hot water.”

He chuckled quietly.  “Let me guess, you’re one of those people incapable of showering in less than half an hour, right?”

“Goddammit, why does everyone think that about me?!”  He laughed, and I threw the spare towel at his head.  “You people all suck.  Each and every one of you.”  I pretended to pout, which he seemed to find amusing.  “Anyhow, I’ll get dinner ready while you take your disgustingly short shower.”

Sure enough, he was in and out in five minutes, hair washed and all.  How did he do that?  I chattered aimlessly during dinner, telling him all about our charming town and about the luxuries afforded by our lovely apartment complex.  He turned out not to be a really talkative guy, but he volunteered that he was new in town (which I’d guessed, given his lack of assistance moving in) and that he’d gotten a job at the new software company office on the outskirts of town.

After dinner we both pretty much just collapsed into our respective beds.

*****

I spent the rest of that weekend helping him unpack.  He seemed surprised when I showed up the next morning offering to help, as if he hadn’t expected anything more than the usual welcome-wagon-type crap.  He was a cool guy, and I was bored, so what the hell.  I mostly did kitchen and living room stuff, while he unpacked the bedroom.  That’s fair.  A guy deserves his privacy, you know.  He went shopping, and insisted on making me dinner, though I told him he didn’t owe me.

I quickly discovered that Jun was not exactly a social kinda guy.  In fact, he was a certified modern-day cave-troll.  Given his way, he’d have probably never left the apartment.  I decided it was my job to haul him out at least once a week.  Saturdays were still clubbing nights, but Fridays I’d nag Jun into going someplace, even if it was just to some cheesy action movie at the second-run theater.  Sometimes he’d pick our destination and we’d go to something a little more upscale, like the Mozart concert at the downtown civic center.  I was surprised at how much I enjoyed that.  Mozart’s not bad for a guy who’s been dead for a few hundred years.  Sometimes we’d get off work early and drive down to Boston for the day, visiting the museums or the aquarium, or just bumming around the outdoor Quincy market or the anime shops in Harvard Square.  And here I’d thought I was the only anime freak in all of northern Massachusetts.  I did once talk him into going clubbing with me, but it was painful for both of us.  He absolutely refused to dance, and no matter how many women I introduced him to, he bluntly ignored all of them.  I didn’t suggest it again.

Still, he was good company, in a quiet sort of way, and for reasons beyond my comprehension, he decided I was, too.  I guess with my talking and his listening, we kind of balanced each other.  Most evenings found both of us in one or the other’s apartment.  I’d wander over and bitch about my day, or he’d wander over and listen to me bitch about my day.  We’d take turns making dinner a lot of the time, using the tried-and-true ‘one cooks, the other cleans’ methodology.  It was less work for both of us, and that’s never a bad thing.

Especially since I hate doing dishes.

*****

Jun’d been here for a little over a month the first time he saw me bringing a girl home.  Now, this was something I did every weekend -- why else go clubbing? -- but since it was always well into the early morning hours before I got home, it wasn’t surprising that he hadn’t yet caught me in the act...so to speak.

I don’t know what the hell he was doing in the hallway at three in the morning, but he just raised an eyebrow at me and nodded before vanishing back into his apartment.  I wondered if he could tell that I was drunk off my ass.  I really hoped not.  The last thing I needed was a lecture in the morning.

We don’t need to dwell on the further events of that night, so I’ll just skip ahead to the next day.  The girl had left by early afternoon; basically right after waking up and getting dressed.  Jun arrived around dinnertime, as usual.  I was surprised when he didn’t launch straight into the lecture.  He was quiet through dinner, which wasn’t unusual; so was I, which was. 

It wasn’t until after we’d finished cleaning up and had settled in the living room that he spoke up.

“You do that every weekend, don’t you?”  Damn.  For someone with the people skills of a rabid hedgehog, he could be way too perceptive at times.  Especially the wrong times.  Well, no use in lying.

“Yeah.”

“A different girl every time.”

“Yeah.”  He was quiet for a moment.  I was waiting for him to start yelling.

“Why?”  I blinked.  There was no anger in his voice, just curiosity.  As if he really didn’t understand.  Definitely not what I was expecting. 

“Why?  What do you mean why?”  He just gave me a look.  He does a really good Look of Duh.  I should know, I’m on the receiving end of it more often than I’d like.  “Well, I mean, why do you think?  Why does anyone bring a girl home?”

“You come home drunk at three in the morning, with a different girl every week.  Is that really what you want?”  Well, when he put it like that...I shoved down the little voice inside that was asking me if he didn’t maybe have a point.

“At least I’m getting laid.”  Ooh, that was the wrong thing to say.  I’d never seen him quite that pissed, and from the Glare of Death he was currently giving me, that was something to be grateful for. 

“Getting laid or getting fucked?”  Ouch.  Can’t say I didn’t deserve that, though.

“What the hell do you care, anyhow?  It’s not like it’s any of your business who I sleep with!”

“Maybe it isn’t, but I don’t want to see anyone ending up hurt.”  His voice softened a little, gentled by concern.

“Hey, it’s nice of you to worry, but they all know it’s a one time deal.  It’s not like I’m breaking any hearts.”  Not that they all accepted this.  I’d had a few ugly scenes with women who got pissy when I didn’t call the next day.  Oh well, tough for them.

Uh-oh, I was getting the Look of Duh again.  “It’s not the girls that I’m worried about.  If they’re willing to go home with a complete stranger, then they can’t be that tender-hearted.”  Okay, he had a point there.  “In case you hadn’t noticed, I kind of consider myself your friend.”

That put me on my guard.  My history of friendship is not particularly healthy.  I was shuffled around a lot as a kid, just long enough to make friends and then lose them.  In all my twenty-odd years, I’d yet to find anyone who cared enough about me to keep in touch when I left; that is, if they hadn’t already stabbed me in the back before that.  So I just shrugged.  “I’m a big boy.  I can take care of myself.”

“You do realize that if you ever plan to have a real relationship, having a history like this could be problematic.”

“I don’t.”  That came out a little colder than I intended, and he looked faintly surprised.  Well, too bad.  Trying to maintain a relationship was the one thing less appealing to me than putting a lot of effort into a friendship that I knew would only end badly.  But then, having a three-year relationship end because your girlfriend decides to ‘make it a full-time thing with the other man she’s been seeing’ will do that.

Fortunately for both of us, Jun realized I was upset and backed off.  He volunteered to make dinner and cooked my favorite, then let me beat him at chess.  I decided that if I was going to have a friend, he was a good one to have.

*****

Even so, it was months before I really thought of him as my friend.  He never mentioned my weekend conquests again, for which I was grateful.  I was just annoyed that the little voice in my head kept repeating his words.  Still, I told myself that if I didn’t want it, then I wouldn’t do it, and that silenced the voice.  For a while, anyhow.

Summer turned into fall, which turned into winter.  I hate winter with a passion.  I despise being cold, and I invariably am.  Being skinny doesn’t afford a lot of insulation.  This was an early winter too, with snow arriving the first week of November, and there always seemed to be a bitterly cold wind blowing. 

Right on schedule, in early December I came down with a nasty case of The Gack.  We’d had a three-foot snowfall, a record breaker, which had unfortunately started a couple hours after the start of my shift - too late for me to call out of work.  It wouldn’t have gone over well anyhow, since I only live ten minutes away.  The parking garage had been full by the time I got there, leaving only uncovered spots in the far lot, and though I spent most of my lunch break digging out my car, it still took me nearly half an hour to dig the damn thing out again at the end of the day.  Driving conditions were beyond horrible; the wind was strong enough to make the car slide around the road, and visibility was literally nothing.  If I hadn’t had another car to follow, I don’t know how I’d have made it. 

It took me forty-five minutes to get home, believe it or not.  This was made more miserable by the fact that I’d gotten soaked from head to toe digging out my car.  Worse yet, in accordance with Murphy’s Law, the weather had actually been pretty mild that morning, so I was wearing only my light coat, without boots, scarf, hat, or anything more than my thin driving gloves.

Oh, and did I mention that the heater in my car wasn’t working?

By the time I got up to my apartment, my hands were shaking so badly I couldn’t unlock the door.  After a few unsuccessful tries, I started swearing blue murder at it.  The noise attracted Jun’s attention, and he stuck his head out in the hall.  Lucky bastard, he’d probably telecommuted. 

I must have looked a miserable sight, because he came right over.  He took the keys from my frozen fingers and opened the door for me.

“Th-thanks, man, I owe ya.”  Great, I was stuttering too.  He looked really worried.  I must have looked terrible.

“Why don’t you go ahead and take a nice hot bath.  I’ll make some cocoa or tea or something while you’re in there.”  He shooed me off toward the bedroom, where I set a record stripping off my wet clothes.  I was surprised they hadn’t frozen stiff right on my body.

Even though I set the bath for my usual temperature, it felt so hot that my icy limbs burned with pain.  I gritted my teeth and forced myself not to jump out, and after a few minutes I was starting to feel human again.  I stepped out of the tub, noting that I was still pretty shaky, and dressed in my warmest clothes.

I wandered blearily out to the kitchen, where Jun handed me a mug of something. At that point, I really didn’t care what it was.  I could have been drinking hemlock, and as long as it was hot, I wouldn’t have cared.

“You should probably go straight to bed, you know.”

I gave him an incredulous look.  Sure, I was tired, but it wasn’t even seven o’ clock.  “Bed?  Now?  Are you nuts?”

He sighed.  He probably expected this.  “Okay, how’s this -- you wrap up on the couch and we watch a movie, then you go to bed.”

I considered this.  I’d still be going to bed at a ridiculously early hour, but I was kinda tired.  “Works for me.”

He went to get the big fluffy comforter from my bed and practically mummified me with it, then put in ‘The Usual Suspects’ and settled at the far end of the couch, thoughtfully giving me room to stretch out.  I suspect he was hoping I’d fall asleep.

I was doing fine until about halfway through the movie, at which point my body suddenly decided it was way too hot.  I kicked off the blanket and was seriously considering pulling off the sweatshirt too when Jun leaned over.

“Paul, nǐ hái hǎo ma?”  One of his more interesting traits is a tendency to slip into his native language at odd times.  Fortunately, by then I knew enough basic Mandarin to understand him.

“M’ okay, just really hot all of a sudden.”  He checked my forehead, and the hand that was so warm taking the keys from me just a little while ago was surprisingly cool.

He frowned.  “You’ve got a fever.”  Hooray, just what I’d been hoping for.  “You should be in bed.”

“Aw, c’mon, Junie, jus’ lemme finish the movie..”  Okay, not only was I whining, I called him Junie.  I was officially out of it.

He sighed again, a little more exasperated this time.  “Paul, you’re not even going to stay awake to finish it.”

“I know, but....pleeeeeeeeease?” 

I’ve been told I do a great set of puppy eyes.  He grumbled a little, but allowed me to stay up on the condition that I’d be good and obedient until I got better.

I think I was awake for all of ten minutes after that.

*****

I woke up sometime during the night, or it could have been the next night, I didn’t know.  I was not only out of it, but I felt terrible.   I ached something fierce all over and my throat was beyond sore.  There was a glass of water on my nightstand and I reached for it, biting back a groan as my body protested the movement.  Then I was being carefully helped upright by a pair of strong but gentle hands.

“Thirsty?”  What was Jun doing here still?  I tried to croak out an affirmative, but ended up settling for a nod.  He put the glass to my lips and held it steady while I drank, which is more than I probably could have managed.  He then coaxed me to take a couple of aspirin and some liquid medicine that I couldn’t identify, though it was vile.  What a surprise.  He asked me if I needed anything else, to which the answer was no, then tucked me back under the blankets.  I was asleep before I hit the pillow.

The next time I woke up it was daylight, and I was feeling somewhat better.  Jun was sleeping nearby, in a chair he’d pulled up next to the bed.  Damn, that had to be uncomfortable.  He hadn’t been there the whole time, had he?

My hands were steady enough that I could get my own drink, and the movement woke Jun.

“Feeling better?”

I nodded.  “Yeah.”  Ugh.  The voice that had come out of my mouth belonged in the throat of a toad, not a human being.

He chuckled softly at my grimace.  “Don’t worry, it’ll clear up.  If you’re hungry, I can go fix you some breakfast.”  My stomach answered before I did, and I blushed.  He chuckled again and walked out.  I managed to get to the bathroom and back before he returned with a tray full of food.

I had intended to ask some questions, but I decided they could wait until after I’d eaten.  Especially since I was currently setting a world record for food-snarfing.  I figured it couldn’t be any more embarrassing than having my stomach yell at me had been. 

Jun watched with mild amusement as I bolted my meal.  I finished the last of it and cleaned my face with the napkin he had so thoughtfully included.

“So how long was I out?”

“Not long.  The storm was Wednesday, now it’s Friday morning.”

“Were you here the whole time?”

He nodded.  “You were really sick.  You needed someone to keep an eye on you.”

I didn’t know quite what to think about that.  I’d never known anyone who’d have cared enough to sit cramped in a chair for thirty-six hours just to keep an eye on me.  Hell, my own parents would have told me it was my own damn fault for getting sick in the first place.  “What if you get sick too?”

He shrugged.  “I’ve got a pretty good immune system.  I’m not too worried about it.”

I’d definitely never known anyone who’d have risked getting a debilitating case of the flu for me.  I catch the Gack at least once a winter, but I’d never had it that badly.  I fiddled with the blanket for a moment, trying to think of something to say, until his voice pulled me away from my thoughts.

“I thought you might like some help...”  He was holding my hairbrush, and it occurred to me that my hair must have been an absolutely hideous mess after two days untouched.  “You’re probably still too tired to brush it all out.” 

He was right, of course.  Despite my meal, I could barely sit up without the support of the wall behind me; the walk to the bathroom had exhausted me.  I don’t like anyone touching my hair, but better to let him at it then to let it continue to rot.  If the guy was willing to play nurse then it wasn’t like he was gonna rip my hair out left and right.

Sure enough, he was perfectly gentle; a lot more so than even I bother being with it.  I could barely feel the brush unraveling the knots in my hair.  Before long it was completely smooth, and I wondered how he could have untangled it so quickly without pulling. 

After the snarls were all gone he continued to just run the brush through my hair in long, even strokes.  It felt very good in a relaxing kind of way, and I suspected I’d be back asleep before too long.  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d let anyone touch my hair, let alone just play with it.  Most of the women I brought home asked me to let it down, but it was the one request I always denied.

But this was Jun, and that made the difference.  Not only because I knew he’d never hurt me, but I was comfortable with him, more so than with anyone else I’d ever known.

If you’d asked me before that, I’d have said he was my friend, but it wasn’t until that moment that I truly accepted him as such.  It felt strange to trust again, after so long.

“Hey, Jun?”  Strange, I hadn’t planned to say anything.

“Hm?”

“D’you like it here?”  I wondered vaguely where my mind was going with this.  I was far too detached from it to have any idea.

He paused.  “Yeah, I do.  I like my job, and I like the town.  Why?”

“You’re not leavin’ any time soon, right?”  Oh Christ, I sounded like a little orphaned kid.  Pathetic.

Another pause, then he answered softly.  “No, I’m not leaving.  You’ll be stuck with me for a long time yet.”  There was a gentle touch as he brushed a stray wisp of hair out of my face.  “Go on back to sleep, okay?  You’re worn out, you need your rest still.  I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“’Kay...” 

It was the most restful sleep I’d ever had.

*****

I guess it was only a matter of time before my doubts about my life as a lady killer caught up to me.  Now, don’t get me wrong -- I never, at any point in time, considered that I was taking advantage of any woman.  Not being okay with date rape, I was always careful to choose women who were mostly sober, regardless of my own degree of intoxication.

I certainly didn’t expect it to all come crashing down on me literally overnight.  In retrospect, I can say that’s why I took it so badly.  Ah, excuses...

There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary about that weekend, or about that particular girl.  It was just another night at the club, just another girl fawning on my arm.  I brought her home and we had sex, just like every other weekend.  I was a lot more drunk than usual, but that’s hardly worth mentioning.

I still don’t know what changed.  All I know is that when I woke up early the next morning and saw her sleeping next to me, something in me just recoiled.  I had a sudden image of doing this week after week, an endless parade of meaningless encounters, ending in either a disinterested parting or an unpleasant scene.  The appalling hollowness of what I’d been doing both sickened and terrified me, and I couldn’t stand to spend a moment more with the girl whose name I didn’t even remember.

I stumbled out of the room, pausing just long enough to grab a robe and pull it on, praying I didn’t wake my...guest.  I didn’t really know where I was going.  It’s not like I was thinking clearly enough to have a specific destination in mind -- I just wanted out, now.  It’s not surprising that I found myself at Jun’s door.

I don’t know what he must have thought when I showed up on his doorstep at who-knows-what ungodly hour of the morning, hung-over, wild-eyed, and barely coherent.  Whatever it was, he didn’t let it show, he just pulled me into his living room, sat me down, and let me talk.

To this day I have no idea what all I said that morning.  I probably wasn’t even fully awake, and I was much too distraught to really choose what was coming out of my mouth.  When the tears started he pulled me into a comforting embrace.  For someone so strong, it’s amazing how gentle he can be.  If I’d been thinking straight, the hug would have surprised me, but as it was, I simply clung to him.  The collapse of my illusions had left me with a cold, empty place inside, and I was grateful for his warmth and strength.

After a while the words ran out, and I just cried.  At some point he must’ve pulled out my hair tie, because he was running one hand soothingly through my hair.  He was murmuring to me in Mandarin, soft words that meant nothing but were calming nonetheless.

Finally the tears, too, stuttered to a halt.  He held me for a few more minutes, waiting for me to settle down, then picked me up as easily as if I were a baby.  I gasped at the sudden motion.

“Shh, Paul, it’s okay.  I’ve got you, I won’t let go.  I promise.”  I relaxed a little.  This was Jun, my friend.  He wouldn’t let me get hurt. 

He carried me into the bathroom and set me down, then dampened a washcloth with warm water to clean the tears from my face.  That done, he carried me into the bedroom and tucked me into his bed. 

“You can’t have gotten enough sleep last night.  Go ahead and take a nap, and you’ll feel better.  I’ll check on your place.”

I scowled.  “I don’t wanna sleep.”

He chuckled.  “You sound like a two-year old, were you aware of that?”

I stuck out my tongue at him.  “Don’t care.  I don’t wanna sleep.”

He rolled his eyes.  “Why not?”  Silly Jun, he probably thought he could reason with me.  He was right that I needed sleep, but that wasn’t the issue.  I didn’t feel like it, that was all.  Yeah, I was being bratty.  It happens.

“I jus’ don’t.”  He was trying not to sigh, I could tell. 

“Fine.”  He turned to his dresser for a moment and came back with a pair of shorts.  “Put these on.”

“Why?”  I think I had a right to be suspicious.  It definitely wasn’t like him to give up this easily.

He gave me one of his Looks.  “Just do it.”  He turned his back.

I pulled the shorts on and tossed off the robe and sat up.  “Okay, all done.”

“Turn around.”

I gave him a look of my own, but turned until I was facing the headboard.

He sat on the bed behind me and moved my hair forward over my shoulder.

“Jun, what are you...ahhh...”  My voice turned into mush along with the rest of me as warm, strong fingers dug into my shoulders, kneading and loosening the tense muscles.

He chuckled.  “What does it feel like?”

I growled halfheartedly as the massage moved down my back.  “Bastard.  That is so not fair.”

“Naturally.”  And up again to the back of my neck.  “Have I ever claimed to fight fair?”

“No, but you’re still a bastard.”  By this point I’d flopped so far forward that I was practically bent in half.  Yes, I’m a lot more flexible than most guys.  When Jun found out about that, he made a comment that got him smacked.  I won’t tell you what he said, but it had to do with my popularity with the opposite sex.   

I would have jumped when he reached under my stomach and caught hold of one of my still-crossed ankles, except that I was too relaxed.  With his other hand supporting my body, he pulled my leg out from under me, then repeated the performance with the other leg so that I was lying on my stomach.

“Definitely cheating.”  The mumbled complaint was rather ineffective, muffled as it was by the pillows.  I supposed I really shouldn’t grumble about something that felt that good.  After all, if I made too much of a fuss then he might stop, and I really didn’t want him to stop.  If I hadn’t been a blob I’d have asked if he’d had formal instruction in massage, because it was miles better than any other backrub I’d received.  He was relaxing muscles I hadn’t even known I’d had.

But dirty or fair, trained or merely practiced, the tactic was certainly effective.  Without the tension keeping my body wound tight as a spring, my lack of sleep caught up to me with a vengeance, and I was out like a light.

I woke around four that afternoon.  Jun was curled up in an armchair nearby, reading the paper.

“Welcome back to the land of the living.”

 

I growled at him.  I’m never at my best when first waking, be it at six in the morning or two in the afternoon.

“I went over and checked on your apartment, by the way.  I think your guest was unpleasantly surprised to see me.”  I winced.  “Oh, don’t worry about it, I could care less what she thinks of me.  She cleared out, and I cleaned things up a little and locked the door.” 

I relaxed a little.  “Thanks, man.  I really appreciate it.  And even if you don’t care, I’m still sorry she yelled at you.”

He smiled wryly.  “Oh, it wasn’t really me she was pissed at.  She was mad at you for disappearing.” 

I groaned.  “Oh, wonderful.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it.  She said she was going back to the Midwest, ‘where the real gentlemen are’, as of tomorrow.”  I wondered if that had been why I’d chosen her.  I decided I didn’t want to think about it.

I left Jun’s apartment and went back to my own.  He’d opened the windows to let the fresh late-spring breeze air out the apartment, and he’d not only made the bed, but changed the sheets as well.  All in all, the place looked as if the night before had never happened.  I silently thanked Jun again, then went to the kitchen to make his favorite dinner.

*****

I suppose I should have quit clubbing altogether at that point, but old habits are hard to break, and the next Saturday found me back at my old haunts.  Midwest or no, word of my breach of day-after etiquette must have gotten around, because the women were giving me the cold shoulder.  Well, with the exception of the local prostitute, that is.  I took one look at her leering, over-made-up face and headed for the door.

Jun found me later that evening in the bar down the street, diligently attempting to drink myself into a coma.  I don’t imagine I need to go into the various kinds of an idiot he called me; which is just as well, since I don’t remember all of them anyway.  Fortunately I was not yet to the point of being completely unable to walk, so Jun wrapped an arm around my shoulders and hauled my protesting self back to the apartment building.

Now, I talk a lot at the best of times, but one of the more annoying side effects of me getting utterly plastered is that I tend to say whatever wanders through my fuzzy little mind.

Which is probably how I found myself asking Jun why, if he was so good-looking, he didn’t have a girlfriend.

If it had been anyone but Jun, I’d have said he did a double take.  As it was, he merely paused for a moment, raised an eyebrow at me, and said calmly, “Excuse me?”

“I said, you’re damn sexy, so why haven’t I ever seen you with a girl?”  It should be noted that I was not talking anywhere near this distinctly, but in the interest of clarity, I have translated from Drunkengibberish into English.

Jun sighed.  “Paul, I’m not like you.  I don’t feel the need to pick up a different girl every weekend.”

I rolled my eyes, then regretted it as I nearly collapsed.  Once my vision cleared, I countered, “That’s bullshit, man.  You’ve been here, what, almost a year now?”  I didn’t even try to do the math.  “I’ve never even seen you with a girl, let alone taking one home for the weekend.  You’re sure you’re not like a robot or something?”  Jun didn’t dignify that with an answer, so I kept teasing him as he dragged me through the hall to my door.

If I’d been sober I’d have realized I was pissing him off, but that’s another aspect of being sloshed that gets me into trouble.  I don’t remember what I said just as we reached my place, but it must have really been something, because Jun had me pinned to the door in a second, those pretty blue eyes promising mayhem.  I swallowed nervously.  “Eh, Junie...c’mon man, I’m hammered, you know how I get...” 

He didn’t let me finish stammering out my excuses.  “You want to know why I don’t pick up women?”  God help me, the only thought that managed to cross my terrified, pickled brain was _Wow, his voice is really sexy when he growls!_   I don’t know if I nodded or if he deemed a response to the obviously rhetorical question unnecessary, because he gave me the answer.

By kissing me.

It was nothing like the sweet, gentle kisses I was used to stealing from my various conquests.  He was rough, impatient, his tongue forcing my mouth open and his lips bruising mine.

I sometimes wonder what my reaction would have been had I been sober at the time; but being drunk, I did the first thing that came to mind -- I kissed back.

He let me, for a long moment, then pushed me away.  I must have protested, because he shook his head and told me, quite unnecessarily, “You’re drunk.”

I would have rolled my eyes again, but now I knew better.  “So?”

He glared.  “So you’re going straight to bed.”

“But Junie...”

“For one, not a chance.  For two, don’t call me that.”

Deciding that words were of little use, I leaned forward and tried to kiss him again.

Did I mention I was drunk out of my mind?

He growled and pushed me back against the door, then put his hand in my front pocket and pulled out my keys.  While I was gaping at him, he unlocked the door and proceeded to pick me up, carry me to my room, and dump me unceremoniously on the bed.  “Good night, Paul.”

I would have sulked, except that I fell asleep too quickly.

I woke around noon, hangover nagging at the back of my skull.  Now, normally I rarely get hangovers, so that should tell you something about how drunk I must have been.  I made an effort to sit up, wondering vaguely about what had happened the night before.

Then I remembered.

I fell back on the pillow, cursing fluently.  Of all the nights to have stayed conscious enough to remember...I swore, probably for the billionth time, that I was never going to drink again.

What bothered me most about the whole mess wasn’t really that Jun had kissed me.  Okay, my next-door neighbor was gay.  Homosexuality doesn’t bother me; I figure it’s none of my business what other people do to get their freak on, as long as it isn't hurting anyone.  I wasn’t sure if he had the hots for me in particular, or if he’d kissed me merely to make a point; but either way was okay with me.  I mean, so he might have the hots for me.  I didn’t see where having a guy lusting after my body would really be any different than the various women who’d done so.  Okay, this particular person happened to be my next-door neighbor and my best friend, but I could live with that.  Jun’s a pretty private person, it wasn’t like he’d run around chasing me, no matter how interested he was.

What really bothered me was my own damn reaction.  Not last night -- hell, I’ve done crazier things when drunk than kissing my best friend.  The irritating part was the here and now -- namely, the fact that I was getting hard just remembering that one single kiss.

I growled and got up to take some painkillers.  This was something that would go away once my hangover was gone, merely a leftover insanity from being shit-faced.  All I needed to do was to find something to keep my mind busy while my headache faded, hopefully taking with it those annoyingly arousing memories.

Fat chance, right?  But it was worth a try.

So I did some light housework, read some magazines, watched TV, anything to keep my brain occupied.  But all afternoon, the memory would pop back up at the most inconvenient of times, and it never failed to affect me just as strongly as it had when I first woke up.  Finally I clicked off the TV with a growl and rolled over on my stomach.  I might not be the brightest of people, but even I know when it’s time to do some serious thinking.

Ok, so what were the facts here?  My best friend had kissed me.  I had kissed back.  I had liked it, and was liking the memory.  So the question in hand would obviously be, ‘why?’  I wasn’t gay, was I?  I mean, you don’t make it to my age, sleep with dozens of women, and not know something like that about yourself, right?  That’d have to be one powerful case of denial.

Still, I couldn’t help but think back to the other night.  Running to Jun’s the morning after because I couldn’t stomach staying in the apartment, watching her wake up, and having to accept what I’d done.  I brought up more memories, face after face, trying to find a time when I’d really wanted it.  I mean, I’d always wanted to, it’s not like I was unwilling or anything, but there had always been this part of me that kept itself separate from what I was doing.  Drunk or not, I’d never wanted any of them the way I’d wanted Jun last night.

I buried my face in the pillows.  This was just not my day.  How could I want him when I didn’t even know what wanting him involved?  Gay male sex was not exactly an area in which I had much expertise.  My more rational side pointed out that if I could handle the idea of Jun wanting me, then surely I should be able to accept wanting him back.  I snarled at the thought and tried to argue that it was different.  The little logical voice asked me how precisely it was different, and I growled and said it just was.

I swear I could hear it laughing at me.

But couldn’t I just hide out in my apartment and avoid him?  It was an option...  I wondered how a disembodied voice could roll its eyes at me, for there’s no denying that’s what it did.  Okay, I suppose it was kind of illogical to think I could avoid my best friend and next-door neighbor indefinitely, but a guy can dream, can’t he?

That thought earned a small, disembodied sigh.

I flipped over on my back, thinking.  Okay, I had to concede I was at least bisexual if not outright gay.  Well, at least that would spare me any more unpleasant scenes with women who thought they deserved an engagement ring just because I’d slept with them. 

Wait...why was I relieved at the thought of no more flings?  It’s not like anyone had ever held a gun to my head or anything.  It had always been my choice.  But...if I hadn’t really wanted to -- and I had to question now if I really had -- why would I have done it at all?  Had I been trying to prove something?  Like, perhaps, that I wasn’t at all interested in men?  I groaned. 

I decided this would be an excellent time not to focus any further on past clusterfucks and concentrate on my current one.  Okay, I was gay and I had the hots for my sexy friend, who possibly also had the hots for me.  Well, things could certainly be worse.  He’d said no because I was drunk, not because he didn’t want to.  That carried the implication that if I’d been sober, he’d have been willing.  Hmm....

Step one, find out what, exactly, I was going to be trying to get from Jun.  Step two, get it.

Right.

Obviously, the first place for such a search would be the internet.  Way to go me, I get to learn about gay male sex by looking at porn sites.  Ugh.  I guess it’s better than being totally ignorant.  Can’t exactly ask for something when I don’t even know what I’m asking for, right?

So I ran a search, and the very first page turned up a gloriously detailed image that answered my question quite thoroughly.  Right on the homepage was a photo of a man with long, wavy hair, on his hands and knees with a dark, bearded man behind him, and it was exquisitely clear exactly what they were doing.  The photo’s angle had, in fact, been taken to ensure that every detail was perfectly visible.

The blood rose to my face in what must have been a fantastic blush, but that wasn’t the only place my blood was going.  My oh-so-helpful libido cheerfully supplied me with an image of Jun doing that to me, and the instantaneous result was that I was harder than I’d even been in my life.  Oh-kay, step one of mission accomplished.

Of course, now there was a little something else I needed to take care of.  I had a sneaking suspicion that this wasn’t going to go away with anything so simple as unsexy thoughts.  For starters, it’s hard to concentrate on much of anything else when you’re so hard that it’s painful, and it wasn’t helping that my mind was providing me with memories of last night, mixed with fantasies about what I wanted Jun doing to me right now.

I looked at the clock.  Five pm.  Jun visited his family living upstate on Sundays, and he wouldn’t be home for at least another hour.  I had plenty of time, and a little...experimentation wouldn’t be a bad idea.  After all, I didn’t want Jun thinking I was completely ignorant.  I shut down my computer and went into my bathroom, stripping off my clothes as I went.  Once naked, I cleaned myself up as best I could before heading back out to the bedroom.  I settled myself on hands and knees on the bed, shifting until I found a position that was both stable and comfortable.  I stroked myself a few times; not that I really needed to, but it would have felt strange not to.  I ran my fingers lower, exploring myself delicately.  I’d never touched myself so intimately before, and the newness of it excited me.  Brushing my fingers against my opening, I winced; how could anything so thick possibly fit into so tight a passage?  A thought occurred to me, and I rummaged in my nightstand to pull out a bottle of massage oil.  Rubbing it into my hands, I grinned wryly; certainly this was not the use to which it was accustomed. 

Resettling myself, I began to slowly press one finger inside me.  I couldn’t help squirming a bit; not that it was painful or even really uncomfortable, just that the sensation was so foreign.  When that finger was halfway in I added another and began stretching myself.  I was now squirming more than just a bit; I couldn’t make up my mind whether I really liked the feeling or really disliked it.  The frustrating part was that my fingers weren’t very long.  I have small hands for a guy.  Wait a minute...did I still have...

I left off what I was doing to rummage under the bed for my little box of ‘toys’.  I chuckled briefly, imagining Jun’s reaction to the contents of said box.  Gay or not, he’d probably faint dead away.

Aha, there it was!  I pulled out the small vibrator I’d gotten a while ago.   I’d rarely used it, but you never know.  I always cleaned it thoroughly after each use, and there was no dust on it.  Good.  I was careful to remove the batteries; this was going to feel weird enough without me accidentally switching it on halfway through.  I coated the thing with oil, then resumed my position on the bed.

It was a little uncomfortable at first, despite my earlier ‘exercises’, but I soon adjusted.  Actually, it felt kinda good once I got used to it.  Then, pressing deeper, the hard plastic brushed across a spot that nearly brought tears to my eyes.  I repeated the action, harder this time, and cried out.  Between the unexpected sensation and the thought of how much better it would be if it were Jun’s dick inside me, I must have decided that experimentation wasn’t so important, because suddenly I was trying my damnedest to impale myself, hips bucking frantically.  I wanted so badly to touch myself, but since my other arm was occupied with keeping my face from being buried in the pillows, I spread my legs as wide as they would go and rubbed myself against the blanket.  It wasn’t long at all before I reached my climax, and I don’t think I’d ever come that hard in all my life.

Once the aftermath had abated somewhat, I rolled over and looked at the clock.  Quarter till six.  Just enough time for a quick shower and a few other arrangements before Jun got home. Perfect.

*****

Once out of the shower, I tossed my blanket onto the laundry pile and replaced it with a fresh one.  That done, I settled on the bed to brush out my hair.  I’d pinned it up to avoid getting it wet -- when this mane gets soaked, it usually takes about 24 hours to fully dry.  Though I wouldn’t cut it for anything, there are times when I really hate my hair.

I’d just finished and was trying to decide what to wear when there was a knock on my door.  Jun. 

Dammit. 

I looked down at myself.  Hair loose, thin bathrobe clinging to my still-damp skin... I grinned.  I wasn’t what I’d had planned, but it’d do nicely.

I opened the door with a grin.  “Hey man, what’s up?”

Jun blinked.  “Nice outfit.”  I love his deadpan humor.

“Glad ya like it.  C’mon in.”

He followed me into the kitchen, where I settled on a chair with one leg pulled up against my chest, which conveniently displayed almost all of that leg, courtesy of the not-very-tightly tied bathrobe.

I have to say, he was good.  His eyes only briefly flickered down my thigh before focusing on my face.  “I came by to see how you were doing.  You got even more drunk than usual last night.  I checked on you before I left, but you barely woke up.”

I rolled my eyes.  “Thanks a lot.  I’m fine.  Any particular reason you came after me?”

He paused.  I think he didn’t expect me to remember that much, and I could almost hear the little gears whirring in his brain as he tried to guess exactly how much I remembered.  “I knew you’d just drink yourself into misery if I let you.  I thought I’d spare both of us the aftermath.”

I winced.  “Hey man, I already said I was sorry about that.” 

A hand on my shoulder, and his eyes were gentle.  “And I already told you that you don’t need to be.  What are friends for if not stuff like that?”  A slight, mischievous smile.  “If I’d woken up beside that woman, I’d have come crying to my friend too.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, which he must have known.  “Thanks a lot, buddy!”  A part of me wondered why I could have thought there was anything wrong with feeling more than friendship for Jun.  He cares a lot more about me than any of the women I’ve ever slept with.

Jun shrugged.  I got the feeling that this was where he was going to go all quiet on me.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind him being quiet.  If I’m feeling talkative, it lets me talk; if not, I can enjoy the silence without feeling like I’m expected to break it.  But at the moment it really wasn’t what I was aiming for.

“So you wanted to spare me waking up wretched.  I appreciate that.”  He looked at me almost warily; he clearly didn’t get where I was going with this.  “Was kissing me part of that?”

On anyone else the slight emotions that flickered across his face would have been far too fleeting to catch, but I knew Jun too well to miss them.  The briefest flash of panic was first, followed by irritation, shame, guilt, and...fear?  Did he think I was mad at him?  “Paul, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have...”

I cut him off with a shake of my head.  “That’s too bad.  I was actually hoping you weren’t sorry...because I’m not.” 

I'd never seen slack-jawed amazement on Jun before, and it made me wish I had a camera.  “But...but you....”  Wow, I hadn’t thought he was capable of stammering.

“Jun, have you ever been drunk yourself?”  A mute shake of the head, not at all surprising.  “Just because I do stuff when drunk that I don’t normally do doesn’t mean I don’t want to do it.  Drinking breaks down inhibitions, it doesn’t force you to do things you’d ordinarily be opposed to.”

Jun just looked at me blankly, obviously trying to process the implications of what I’d said.  I decided to save him the trouble. 

By kissing him.

Oh, it was so much better sober.  His lips were soft and warm and his shoulders beneath my hands were strong and solid.  His masculine scent teased at me, reminding me that this was no delicate woman I had to be careful with, but a man, my equal, who could take everything I could give, who could give all that I could take.  It was an incredible turn-on.

I leaned into the kiss, demanding, but he pushed me away.  Eyes wide, breathing harsh, we regarded each other for a moment.  Then he spoke.  “Paul, no.”

I looked at him calmly, steadily.  “Why not?”

There was emotion was moving behind those beautiful blue eyes, anger and pain.  “Because I’m not like all those women you bring home, in case you hadn’t noticed.  I don't know why you've decided to try being with a guy all of a sudden, but you can find someone else to experiment on.  I don’t want to be just another notch on your bedpost.”

I winced.  Not that he was wholly unjustified, but man, truth hurts.  This was going to take some careful handling.  I backed away enough so that he wouldn’t feel I was still pushing him, and gathered my thoughts.

“I know you’re not like them, Jun.  That’s the point.”  His face darkened, but I held up a hand for him to let me finish.  “Have I really seemed happy with the way I was going?  I mean, you’ve seen it yourself.  I’m fleeing my apartment the morning after, I’m drinking myself sick just to forget what I am.  That’s not what I want anymore.  I want to be with someone who means something.”  There I was, win or lose all.  I met his eyes squarely, letting all the walls down, letting him see everything.  I’ve never been so vulnerable.

It may have been the hardest thing I’d ever done.  But this was Jun, who meant more to me than anyone I’d ever met, and I knew he wouldn’t hurt me.  For the first time in longer than I can remember, I trusted someone to the absolute depths of my soul. 

I saw his eyes widen; he knew enough about me to understand what that must have cost me.  Then they gentled and he nodded, drawing me into an embrace.  I leaned against his muscular chest, feeling something ease in my heart.  It was nice not to have to be the strong one for a change.

I stayed like that for a moment before leaning up to beg a kiss.  He gave it to me gladly, kissing lightly at first, then with increasing passion.  I kissed him hard, demandingly, trying to gain control.  I loved the contest of strength, loved feeling him force me into submission.  I whimpered a little, needing more so badly...

He broke the kiss and grinned darkly at me, letting his eyes roam possessively over my body.  The look alone was enough to make me shiver.  I’d been given the once-over more times than I could count, but never the way he was doing it.  His eyes practically branded me his.  I couldn’t wait.  “Jun, more, please...”

Jun snorted.  “Paul, you’re a skirt-chaser.  You don’t have any idea what you’re asking for.”

I grinned.  Who’d have thought that doing my homework would have come in so handy?  “I don’t?  And what if I told you I wanted to feel your hot cock buried to the hilt in my tight virgin ass?” 

I wouldn’t have thought a human face could express that much surprise.  It was all I could do to keep from laughing.  But to his credit, the surprise lasted only a moment before melting into the purest expression of lust I’d seen in a long time.  Blazing blue eyes met mine, and the desire to laugh swiftly died.

“Oh, do you now?”  It was all I could do not to come just on hearing that sexy purr.  I’d never heard that predatory tone in any voice, let alone his, and it nearly drove me insane.  “You do realize that once I mark you, you’re mine, don’t you?  Mine, and no one else’s.”

I nodded, trying to make my desperation clear without the words that had suddenly deserted me.  At that moment there was nothing in the world I wanted more.

“Good.”  Without a word more, he tossed me over his shoulder to carry into the bedroom.  This conveniently positioned his hand on my ass, and he did his best to render me frantic by teasingly running his fingers over me.  I moaned and tried to push back against him, but that’s a difficult thing to manage when you’re slung over someone’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

He set me down on my bed, and an insane little corner of my mind commented that it looked like I was going to have another blanket to wash.  I shook my head and Jun gave me a questioning look.

I gave him a weak grin.  “Not you, it’s the voices in my head.  Sorry.”

He raised an eyebrow,  “And what do they have to say?”

“That I’m gonna need to wash this blanket.”

He chuckled.  “Well then, they’re most certainly correct.”  He leaned over to kiss me again, and I returned the kiss enthusiastically.  That is, until a few minutes later when I felt my robe being pulled off, which prompted a squeak of surprise.

Of all the situations I never thought I’d be in, stark naked in front of Jun (who was equally naked...when had he gotten undressed?) particularly as a precursor to sex, has got to be way high on the list.  Not that it mattered much as his eyes raked hungrily over every inch of my skin.  He saw me shiver and gave me a lazy, sensual smile.

“Something wrong?”  I shook my head mutely.  “Hm, maybe you’re cold.  I suppose it is a little cool to be buck naked.  I’ll have to do something about that.”  He ran a hand down my chest, callused fingers pausing to pinch and twist my nipples.  I moaned softly and heard him chuckle.  “I had no idea you were so responsive.  No wonder the ladies love you.”  I glared at him and he smirked at me, unfazed.  I guess I need to work on my glares.

My glare fell to pieces entirely when he reached lower and took my shaft in his hand.  I would have screamed, but I didn’t have the breath.  It was completely different than even the most skilled of my past lovers; he knew exactly how and where to touch me to elicit the strongest response.  Which would have made sense, seeing as he was another male and could reasonably be expected to know what did and didn’t feel good…but I was far past the point of being able to think.  All I could do was thrust my hips up helplessly into that talented grip.

His hands withdrew and I whimpered pleadingly.  When that didn’t merit a touch I opened my eyes (when had I closed them?) to see him sitting on the edge of the bed, smirking at me. 

He was doing way too much of that.

He had found the bottle of massage oil and was pouring some into his hands, commenting that he should be grateful to my past lovers for prompting me to leave such a useful item lying around.  I opened my mouth to retort, but the words died in my throat as he began stroking the oil onto himself.

I’ve never seen anything so beautiful as he was in that moment, head tilted back, eyes closed, blissful smile on his lips.  And that purring sound he was making...I whimpered again.

He cracked one eye open.  I gave him a little pleading moan and started to get on my hands and knees, but his strong hand on my shoulder stopped me.  I gave him a uncertain look and he answered my unspoken question.  “Not this time.  I want to see your face.”  He pushed me back down on the bed and I reached for him.

He smiled.  “Impatient, aren’t we?”  Still, he obligingly rained swift little kisses over my face while he hooked my legs over his shoulders, nearly bending me double.  Realization of how this was going to happen swept over me, and I thanked whoever might be listening for my flexibility.

Without warning I felt his oil-slicked fingers pushing into me, and I groaned and pushed back against him.  I felt him smile against my lips, but he didn’t say anything, just gave me a few quick, hard stretches.  I broke the kiss to snarl at him that I was ready and that he damn well better stop screwing around and get to it.

He grinned.  “But I thought screwing around was what you wanted me to do.”  I growled at him and was about to reply when he kissed me hard.  I was about to protest when I felt his fingers replaced by something else.  I whined into the kiss and tried to press myself against him.

He broke the kiss to breathlessly ask, “You’re sure?” 

I pulled his head back down and kissed him savagely before hissing in his ear, “Dammit, Jun, fuck me already!” 

I was a good thing he pressed his lips to mine then, because otherwise the scream I let loose as he buried himself in me would have brought the neighbors running.  He lay still for a moment, letting me adjust.  I too lay still for a bit, then started squirming. 

I have to say, he really must have inhuman self-control to have stayed perfectly still while I was doing that.  I can only think how frustrating that must have been for him.  I grinned inwardly as a truly evil thought occurred to me.  I slowly constricted my muscles around him, and he gasped softly.  He didn’t realize I was doing it deliberately, so I repeated the action.  I hadn’t done it more than a few times before he opened his tightly-shut eyes and gave me the Mother of All Glares.  Oh, hell, I was in for it.

He withdrew almost completely, and for a moment I panicked, thinking that he was going to leave me like that.  I whimpered desperately as I felt him pull out, and he gave me a wicked grin. 

I barely had time to worry what he had planned before he slammed back into me.  His shaft struck that spot inside me hard and I let out a yell fit to break the windows.  Then he was fucking me, thrusting roughly into me over and over and over.  I must have been screaming, because he sealed my mouth with his.  I raised my hips to meet each stroke, completely lost in the sensations he was causing.

Then he reached between us to take my shaft in his hand again, and my vision whited out with the hardest climax I’d ever felt.  I was still coming down when I felt him empty himself inside me.  My eyes rolled back in my head and the world went black.

*****

I woke up a few minutes later to see Jun, fully dressed, preparing to leave the room.  Of course, my immediate assumption was that he was leaving.

I propped myself up on one elbow and snarled at him.  “You get your scrawny ass back here, buddy.  If you ever want this again, then by damn you’d better not be walking away without so much as a cuddle!”

He turned and regarded me for a moment, one eyebrow raised.  Then he smiled at me, that same slow, sexy smile that alone was enough to make my blood burn.  “That’s some threat, Anderson.”  I tried glaring at him, but since my mind was racing with the possible meanings of that smile, I don’t think it worked very well.  “And if I wanted it again, you think you could deny me?”  He reached out to run a hand lightly over my skin, and I closed my eyes, shivering.  “Somehow I doubt that.”  A brief pause.  “Turn over on your hands and knees.  Ass up, head down, legs as wide as you can get them.”

The contrary, obstinate part of me meant to tell him to fuck off, really it did, but my body heard only the steel in his command, and obeyed instantly.  “Very good, lover mine.”  I would have growled, but the fact that he was tracing his fingers lightly over my most sensitive places made it rather difficult to think.  He teased me for a few more minutes, stroking my renewed erection, cupping my sac, pressing a fingertip inside me, then backing away when I tried to push against him.  I whimpered softly, pleading.

His hands abandoned me and I cried out.  I turned to see him watching me with half-lidded eyes.  “Please....”  I needed him so much...

His next words couldn’t have been less expected.  “I want to watch you fuck yourself, Paul.”  I stared at him, my eyes impossibly wide.  “Three fingers, hard and fast.”  I would never have figured myself for an exhibitionist, but somehow the thought of him watching me do that made me harder than stone.  I reached around and tentatively  pressed my fingers against my opening.  There was enough oil left over from our earlier activities that my fingers slid in easily.  I moaned quietly, distantly hearing my lover murmur approval.  I drove my fingers inside myself harder, spurred by need and by the fierce blue gaze watching me even as he undressed.

It was a few minutes later that I felt a hand on my wrist.  The thought flashed through my brain that if he teased me any more I was going to kill him.  But he didn’t. 

He thrust into me in one swift stroke, as before.  I didn’t scream this time, just made a soft sound in the back of my throat.  He reached around to grasp me, whispering harshly in my ear.  “You’re mine.” 

“I’m yours...”  I would have thought myself incapable of speech.

Another thrust.

“I can do whatever I want with you.”

Another.

“Whenever I choose.”

Again.

“And you’ll like it.”

Harder.

“Because I own you, Paul.”

Faster.

“Body...”

Deeper.

“And soul.”  With these words he stretched his free hand to turn my face towards his, and gave me the tenderest kiss I’d ever received.  The kiss combined with the truth of his words, and an ecstasy that was more than physical shot through me.  I had given myself to him, body, heart, and soul, and in doing so, I had set myself free.

 

I was about to fall back asleep when Jun nuzzled me.  “Oh, by the way, Paul...”

I managed a sleepy mumble.  “Mmm?”

“When you saw me getting up earlier...”

I cracked an eye open, rather more awake.  “Yeah?”

He smiled.  “I was going to make us some dinner.  I thought you might be hungry.”

I groaned and rolled over.

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this as an AU fanfic for Gundam Wing, and recently decided that it had few enough ties with the series that I could overhaul it into an original piece. So for those who may recognize the story, that's why. Rest assured that I am that self-same author ^_^


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